Singer
by flooj9235
Summary: Christine leaves the Sierra Madre with Six, but has no idea what to do with her life. When the courier asks if she can sing like Vera, they're both surprised to find that she can. With no other immediate options, Christine agrees to go audition as an act at the Aces. Much to her surprise, new opportunities sometimes lead to second chances. F/F. VSCR.
1. Chapter 1

This idea was inspired by a post on tumblr by skooth. Here's hoping it's up to snuff and that y'all enjoy it!

* * *

"Hey, I've got a question," the courier said, slowing slightly so he could turn and look at Christine.

The bald woman raised her eyebrows, pushing forward through the maze of tunnels. The more distance she could put between Elijah's grave and herself, the better. She couldn't quite shake the feeling that Elijah would find a way to escape and come after them.

"You've got that Vera lady's voice, right?"

"I guess," she muttered bitterly, hating the way the low, sultry tones sounded coming from her lips.

Six gave her a thoughtful look, catching her arm and slowing her pace when she tried to pass him. "He's not coming after us," the courier promised, though he released her when she jerked her arm away. "Sorry. Look, I'm just curious. I know you talk like Vera, but... Can you sing like her?"

Christine blinked. The thought hadn't ever occurred to her, not that she had had much time to think about it. In the dim safety lights of the tunnels, Six was giving her a cautious look. "I... don't know."

The man seemed ready to ask her something, but closed his mouth and shrugged. "Just a thought." He looked off down the bunker tunnel and sighed. "How much farther do you think it is?"

Christine rolled her shoulders and shrugged, rubbing at the scar under her chin gently. "No idea. I was unconscious when I got dragged through here. Last thing I remember is that radio, and then the goddamn Auto-Doc." The courier grunted in answer and they continued on, but Christine couldn't shake the thought Six had brought to her mind.

Her throat still ached if she spoke for too long at a time, but it didn't stop her from trying to hum under her breath. From what she could tell, the noise was pleasant, but she decided to wait to try again until she'd quit running for her life.

It took them another few hours to finally make their way back to the abandoned bunker, and the haunting sight of the lone radio put both the courier and Christine on edge. Six wanted to check out a small room he'd discovered, but it was locked and Christine couldn't help but be grateful.

Apparently Six had stashed his gear in a locker, and he stopped to gather it again, giving Christine a rifle and a decent set of armor. They suited up and divided up the gear, then started climbing the ladder to freedom.

Six went first, shoving the manhole cover out of the way and heaving himself out of the tunnel. He turned and caught Christine's arm, hauling her up and onto the sand. She sat there for a minute, trying to grasp the fact that she was back in the Mojave. As the courier slid the manhole cover back over the bunker, it fell shut with a ringing finality.

Christine and Six looked at each other for a minute before they both sagged with relief. Their nightmarish stint at the Sierra Madre was over. They were safe. Six crawled over and hugged her, murmuring out his thanks for their survival. Christine stiffened at the embrace, having not really been touched in years. After a moment, the bald woman relaxed slightly and let the warmth and friendship wrap around her.

Six broke away and grinned at her wearily, then looked down at his Pip-Boy. "God, it's nice to see familiar territory. You hungry?"

The pair trudged north, ending up in Camp Forlorn Hope. Christine balked at the idea, but Six quickly promised that NCR wouldn't do anything. He mentioned something about setting up a treaty, but Christine was too busy eyeing the two-headed bear on the flag above their heads to listen.

They ate and showered, and Six paid the doctor to look them both over before they left the camp. Christine hadn't realized how irradiated she had been, but once the RadAway took effect, she felt much stronger and more like the soldier she had once been.

Off in the distance, the Lucky 38 shot up into the sky, a symbol of the oasis in the midst of the desert.

Six sipped at a water bottle he'd bought at the camp, looking over to Christine. "So. I don't suppose you've thought any about what your plans are now?"

Christine shrugged and adjusted the bag of gear on her shoulder. "Not really. Always figured when Elijah went down, he'd take me with him."

Six nodded thoughtfully, offering her a drink. "How about joining the Brotherhood again?"

"I'm an exile," Christine reminded him sourly. "I don't think I'd want to go back, anyway. I'm too… Too much has changed." She was quiet for a while, lost in thought. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

The pair walked in silence for nearly an hour, avoiding the occasional gecko and letting the miles pass under their feet. Darkness fell as they walked, and the Strip cast an eerie glow into the night sky. Six and Christine stopped to make camp, neither one wanting to continue on through the dark.

Christine took a rifle and shot some food while Six set up a fire and a few bedrolls. By the time she returned with two sizeable gecko steaks, the courier had a large crackling blaze going while he lounged nearby on one of the bedrolls. When he heard her coming, Six hopped up and took over the cooking.

They settled into their camp and ate as stars blinked into existence above them. Once the meal was over, Six turned his Pip-Boy radio on and tuned it until he found a station he liked.

A twangy country song echoed from the wrist computer, filling the silence between them. Six waited until the song was fading before he turned to look at her. "Did you think any more about singing?"

Christine shrugged, reaching up to trace the scar across her throat self-consciously. "Not really, no."

Six clicked the radio off and looked at her. "Try the one we just heard. Gimme a few bars or something."

Christine shot him an incredulous look. "I wasn't even really listening!"

The courier sighed and turned the radio back on, scanning through the frequencies until he found a new song. "Okay, pay attention to this one." No sooner had the words left his mouth than did Mr. New Vegas cut in with an announcement about ghouls and rocket ships. "Seriously?! Damn it."

Christine snorted while Six laughed at his poor luck, and the pair shared a wry grin.

"Okay, fine," Six relented. "No radio track. But I'm still curious. Do you know anything off the top of your head?"

It was obvious that the courier wasn't about to drop it, so Christine gave in and started thinking through any music she knew. It sickened her, but the song that first occurred to her was one that Six had collected during their time inside the Sierra Madre. She'd only heard it once, sung by her own new voice, but knowing that Vera's skeleton was in the room behind her had made the charming melody chilling. Christine tried to push it aside and think of a different song, but Vera's voice was stuck in her head and she scowled at the campfire in front of her.

Sudden embarrassment rushed through her when she opened her mouth, and she gave Six a nervous glance. He just nodded encouragingly so Christine closed her eyes and started singing Vera's song. Put on the spot, she couldn't remember as much of it as she'd thought, but the few lines she could manage was enough. Even through her ears, her own singing voice sounded pleasant, yet the tune was haunting in her ears.

She opened her eyes and looked at Six uncertainly. His jaw was set but his eyes were awed.

"Jesus," he muttered after a second. "Could've picked a less… scary song, but holy cazadors, Christine."

"That bad?" she asked, looking down at her hands and picking at a scab she found there.

"Hell no! That was better than anything I've heard on any radio station, and trust me when I say I've heard plenty of them between here and the Core region." Six reached over and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Look, I know this guy on the Strip, Tommy Torini. He runs this theater there. I found him a few comics and a singer or two, and…"

Christine felt the blood drain from her face. "What, get up on a stage and sing? Me?"

Six nodded slowly. "Just for a little while, maybe not even that often. Just as something to do while you get back on your feet. You'd get a few caps, maybe a room in the casino… Whaddya think?"

The scarred woman swallowed and tried to imagine herself on a stage with a crowd at her feet. The thought of all the eyes on her made her falter and she shot Six a disbelieving look. "I think anyone would be out of their mind if they wanted to put me on a stage. I'm not exactly your usual pretty celebrity." She hugged a knee to her chest and pretended the thought didn't hurt. "I feel like a ghoul."

"Well, Tommy's hired ghouls before, so that shouldn't be a problem," the courier teased gently. "You've got the rest of your life to figure out what to do, Christine. But it wouldn't hurt to at least go talk to him. It'd be a good way to get you back into the world."

Christine gave him a sharp look, but realized that he had a point. Her entire life had been focused on hunting Elijah for so long that she'd almost forgotten what it was like to exist without being concerned about tracking her target. Adjusting to regular life was going to be necessary for her survival, and there weren't likely to be better opportunities than this one. She nodded slowly, looking up at Six.

The courier seemed relieved and flashed her a smile. "Great. Tomorrow we'll head for the Strip."

The two settled down to go to bed not long after, with Six offering to take the first watch. Despite their exhaustion, the Sierra Madre haunted them, and they stayed awake long into the night, mistaking every sound in the wasteland for Ghost People creeping up to end them.

=====:=====

The rest of their journey to the Strip passed relatively quickly. Christine started talking more and more, and Six, in a rather obvious attempt to help her entertain the idea of singing, kept his Pip-Boy radio turned on most of the time. Christine found her scars growing less tight the more she spoke, and her voice grew less raspy with the continued use of it.

She and the courier talked randomly, with Six asking a few questions about her past now that she could actually answer them. Christine talked around Veronica, unwilling to revisit the memories that still ached.

As they neared Vegas, Christine realized that she was about to be reintegrated into Mojave life whether she liked it or not, and wondered if the Brotherhood would recognize her. She snorted to herself; she was physically changed, that much was for sure, but her name remained, and that was what worried her.

"Hey Six?"

The courier picked off a gecko through the sight on his rifle before answering. "Hm?"

"I… look, the Brotherhood and I… Since I'm an exile, they'd probably hunt me down if they knew I was here."

Six looked surprised but nodded slowly.

"Just… can you not use my name? I don't think they'll recognize me, but who knows. I think it might be better if 'Christine Royce' disappears." She shrugged as casually as she could, looking away.

After a few moments, the courier sighed. "I get that. Yeah, I'll—I won't tell anyone. I'll just say I met you at a casino. No Brotherhood ties that way, sound good?"

Christine nodded appreciatively, spotting another gecko down the hill. It didn't seem to be hunting and was far enough away that Christine decided they were safe. "Thanks, Six." She offered him a hesitant smile, and the courier just nodded.

He pointed out a few landmarks that were becoming visible, including NCR's monorail into the Strip, then the pair lapsed into silence until they walked into Freeside.

Six brushed off a few warm greetings and told Christine about the Kings as they walked closer to the huge buildings of the Strip. She listened and nodded in the appropriate spots, looking at the surroundings in awe. Christine stopped short when she nearly ran into something, and looked up to see a large robot with a scowling soldier's face on the screen.

"Move along," the securitron ordered, and Christine backed away, lifting her hands in surrender.

"It's fine, she's with me," Six said, holding up a passport.

The securitrons whirred for a moment then rolled aside. "Enjoy your time on the Strip."

Christine was stunned as the enormous gate rolled open and she got her first glimpse of the Strip. It was clean and brightly lit, with flashing lights and people milling around everywhere.

The courier chuckled at the look on her face, putting a hand on her shoulder and guiding her across the Strip. "Tommy's theater is in the Tops, see it over there? It's not—"

A Gomorrah hooker interrupted the courier by stepping in front of Christine and all but giving the bald woman a lap dance. "Hey honey," she purred, gyrating around in front of Christine. "Looks like you could use a little lovin'."

Christine felt a blush creeping up her neck, unable to tear her gaze away from the barely-clothed woman before her.

"Not interested," Six replied, catching Christine's arm and hauling her away. "It's one of the better places to go get laid," he admitted, "but I think we oughta talk to Tommy first."

Christine nodded distractedly, shaking her head to try and clear the visions of the woman's dark skin and the leather that hugged her curves. It had been far too long since she'd slept with a woman, and memories of Veronica danced through her mind. She swallowed hard and looked up at the big white building before them.

"This is the Tops," Six announced proudly. "If Tommy likes what you've got, this can be your new home. It's pretty decent, even if the Chairmen are a little strange. At least they're not creepy like the White Gloves, and nowhere near as slimy as the Omertas."

Christine filed the information away for later, walking into the casino with Six. They checked their weapons with the men at the door, then Six led her into the casino proper. He pointed out the restrooms, elevators, and dining room, finally leading her up the stairs toward the Aces theater.

"C'mon in here, we'll see what Tommy has to say." Six shot her a hopeful grin, waving to the woman at the cashier's desk as they walked toward the theater.

The courier opened the door for Christine, ushering her into the dimly lit theater. It was large and slightly smoky, with background chatter from the patrons of the casino filling the air. Along the back wall was an impressive stage, and a cowboy with a guitar was warming up under the spotlight.

"Hey, Tommy!" Six said, distracting Christine from her survey of the room. The courier started forward to meet a dark-skinned man with an eye patch, who was walking toward them with a wide grin. "Long time no see! How's business?"

"Doin' real good, man!" The showman took a drag of the cigarette between his fingers and gestured toward the mostly-full theater. "Everyone's lovin' the talent you brought in."

Six grinned. "Glad to hear it. Speaking of which, I have a friend I'd like you to meet."

Tommy's gaze shifted to Christine and he raised an eyebrow.

"This is Christine," Six said, glancing between them. "She's a new friend of mine, but she's got a killer voice."

"Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you," Tommy said amiably, shaking Christine's hand and studying her for a moment. "Let me guess, soprano?"

Christine shook her head. "Used to be. Not anymore."

Tommy shrugged. "Worth a guess. Ready to show me what you got, baby doll?"

She knew had little choice in the matter, so Christine shrugged and let Tommy lead her off into the area behind the stage. The courier called out a wish for good luck and the door closed between them.

Christine followed the showman to a private room, cringing inwardly when he closed the door. Her chest already felt constricted and she was itching to get out of the room. "Can we have that open? I... don't like closed spaces." Memories of the suffocating Auto-Doc flashed in front of her and Christine shuddered.

Tommy gave her a quizzical look but opened the door again. "That better?"

The scarred woman nodded, the tension in her chest easing.

"Okay, you got something in mind, or want me to pick something?"

Christine shrugged, then thought better of it. "I know one." The song she'd sung for the courier was the only one she really knew; it had been years since she'd had time to listen to the radio and learn newer music.

Tommy nodded and told her to start when she was ready. Christine paused and took a deep breath, then opened her mouth and started singing again. She went as far as she could remember, then went quiet and gave Tommy a hesitant smile.

"Ring a ding, baby," Tommy said with a wide grin. "If you want a job, you've got one here. That was some amazing singin'." He started talking about the show business and how she surpassed everyone else he'd ever heard, still smiling at her.

It struck Christine that he seemed to not have noticed her scars, and that he was treating her as though she looked like anyone else. "You're not scared of the way I look," Christine observed when he stopped to take a breath.

Tommy shook his head slowly, his face growing sad. "We all got our scars," he admitted, gesturing to his eye patch. "Taught me a long time ago that looks ain't everything; what's inside ya is what counts." A small smile grew on his face. "And you, my dear, have one hell of a voice."

Christine felt her ears grow warm and dropped her gaze to the carpet. "Thanks."

Tommy chuckled. "So, how 'bout it? You want a place here at the Aces? Ol' Uncle Tommy'll take care of you. I'll getcha a room here in the Tops, make sure you're paid and fed, and anything else you want."

She had no other options; the Brotherhood had exiled her, and she wasn't about to go back to the Circle and get sent on another mad chase. Besides, singing wasn't so hard, not with Vera's voice, and she could save up some caps until she figured out what she wanted to do. "That sounds like a plan. Thanks."

Tommy whooped and slung his arm around her shoulders. "Glad to hear it, baby doll! Now, you need a name!"

Christine raised an eyebrow, but Tommy interrupted before she could say anything.

"A stage name, somethin' that'll drive your fans wild, and trust me, there will be fans." He stroked his mustache and thought for a few minutes, then eyed the scarred woman. "I take it you been on some rough roads."

Christine nodded once and shrugged. "You might say that."

"Miss Fortune?" the showman offered after a few moments.

Christine repeated the words under her breath, testing the way they felt rolling off her tongue. The irony of them wasn't lost on her and a wry smile started at the corner of her mouth. "Sounds perfect to me."

Tommy grinned and shook her hand excitedly. "Then welcome to the Aces, Miss Fortune. We're gonna make you a star."


	2. Chapter 2

The next few months passed in a whirl. Christine found herself singing covers of many of the songs that were already on the radio stations and gathering quite a bit of attention. Tommy managed to get her some good deals with the casino and arranged for her to have a suite all to herself. At first, Christine was worried it would remind her too much of Vera's suite in the Sierra Madre, but a wide window looking out over the Strip helped ease her mind. She'd found a set of stairs that wasn't too confining, and after a few weeks of uncertainty, settled into her new life.

Years spent chasing Elijah had kept her constantly on the move, though, and Christine found that she couldn't remain cooped up on the Strip for more than a few days before she started getting desperate to roam. She and Tommy worked out a deal that she would put on a few shows, then have a few days off in which she could roam the nearby Mojave. Tommy tried to convince her to take a few bodyguards with her, obviously unwilling to lose his big star, but Christine pointed out her scars and promised that she'd survived this long, so she could manage a few days out in the desert.

She didn't see Six much, only really heard tales of his latest adventure from the crowds that filled the Aces. At some point, she knew she needed to thank him for giving her this opportunity, and made up her mind that she would repay the courier someday.

Christine blew her first paycheck at Gomorrah, drinking until she could hardly see straight, then hiring out the hooker that had approached her on the street. She had gone for so long without any sort of affection, and finally receiving it made Christine feel the most alive she had in years. She didn't care that the tenderness being displayed to her was fake or that she wouldn't remember it in the morning; all Christine wanted was to feel loved.

She woke the next morning with a hangover that hurt worse than when she'd woken up with fresh scars in Big MT, and the taste in her mouth only made her nausea worse. Tommy found out that she was sick and came by to visit, but when he saw the state of her, he started scolding her loudly enough to make her ears ring.

"You have a show tonight," he reminded her sharply. "And I'll be damned if you show up on stage still drunk and hung over! Just 'cause you got the gift of singin' don't mean you can run around and party all night long! People are paying tons of caps to come see you, and actin' like this ain't ring-a-ding!"

Christine ducked her head, cringing at the aggravation in her boss' tone. She was already regretting her own decision to drink so much, and Tommy's guilt trip was only making it worse. She apologized, promised to be ready by show time, then went to her bathroom and ran a warm shower. The steam was soothing on her headache, but she didn't like the grogginess that was heavy in her limbs. Christine grit her teeth and turned the hot water off, barely managing to keep a yelp quiet when the cold water hit her skin.

After spending as long as she could stand under the icy stream, Christine got out and toweled herself off, then went in search of the band. Tommy had wanted them to rehearse for a gig, but hadn't mentioned what just yet.

One of the band saw the bleary look in her eyes and the way she cringed when one of them spoke too loudly, disappearing to fetch her some pain pills. He got back before Tommy noticed that he was gone, pushing the little pill bottle into Christine's hand with a grin.

Her hangover had just started to leave her when Tommy shot his troupe a wide grin. "Well ring-a-ding-ding, everyone! Looks like we're ready to hit the studio!"

Christine blinked and shot the band a confused look, noticing their eager faces.

"You're gonna be on the radio, Miss Fortune," Tommy said, making a sweeping gesture. "Everyone in the Mojave's gonna be blessed with the sound of your voice!"

She had mostly gotten over her stage fright, but the thought of being on the radio made Christine somewhat nervous. She had little choice in the matter, though, so Christine followed Tommy and went with the band to the broadcast studio across the street. The recording room was smaller than she'd expected and Christine hesitated at the entrance.

"Tommy," she began, cringing at the pathetic fear obvious in her voice.

The manager clapped her on the shoulder reassuringly. "Won't be for more than a few minutes, baby. Just close your eyes or somethin'."

Christine scowled at him. "Can't they prop the door open? Just a little?"

"Naw, that'd mess up the sound. Sorry, Miss Fortune," he said, sounding slightly more sincere when he looked over and saw the anxiety in her eyes. "I'd knock the walls out for ya if I could, you know that."

Christine let out a sigh, realizing that she was stuck. She doubted closing her eyes would do much to soothe her claustrophobia, but she was running out of time to devise anything else. The band was already set up in the studio and tuning their instruments, and the recording technicians were waiting. "Fine," she muttered, "but you owe me."

Tommy gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, nodding before he guided her into the studio. "Knock 'em dead, baby."

The door closed and the sound made Christine's blood run cold. She wanted a way to escape, just in case, but refrained from looking for a window. The band was looking at her expectantly, oblivious to the cool sweat breaking out on Christine's neck. The singer grimaced at the musicians and sighed. "Let's do this."

Her words were swallowed up by the acoustics of the room and Christine shuddered, turning to the microphone. Tommy gave her a thumbs up through the glass window of the booth and Christine pointedly shut her eyes.

Behind her, the band counted off and started playing. Christine listened for her cue and started to sing. Her heart was pounding and she wasn't quite sure she was hitting all the notes, but when the last strains faded away and Christine opened her eyes, Tommy was applauding.

The second she was sure she could, Christine bolted out of the room, brushing past Tommy and out onto the balcony that overlooked the Strip. The air was hot and dry, but relaxing, and Christine took a few minutes to breathe and get her heart rate under control.

The band filed out around her and went back toward the Tops, and Tommy walked out and stood beside her, lighting a cigarette. "How can we make that more comfortable for you?" he asked quietly. "'Cause I'm thinking this is gonna be real popular. Don't think we'll be able to get away with you being a one hit wonder."

Christine shrugged. "I just… don't like feeling trapped. Got stuck in an Auto-Doc once," she explained bitterly. "Some bastard locked me in there, and… I don't like feeling trapped."

Tommy pursed his lips and nodded, glancing at her scars thoughtfully. "I'll see what I can do," he offered finally. He patted Christine on the shoulder and ambled back to the Tops.

Christine watched him go, still waiting for her breathing to slow, then sighed and followed the manager to the casino.

=====:=====

The shows began to draw even more crowds, and Christine found herself singing in at least one show every day. Tommy gave her a few days off now and then, and Christine retreated to her room every chance she got, enjoying the isolation and the relative quiet. There were still faint sounds of the casino and other residents, but for the most part, it was relaxing enough.

Tommy called her and the band to the recording studio again a few weeks later. Christine dreaded it, but when she arrived, she was greeted with large paintings and signs that, while gaudy, covered the walls and made the room seem far less constricting. She gave the showman an incredulous look, and he just smiled. "Better?"

She left the door open while she walked into the room and assessed the decorations. All the things Tommy had hung up on the walls were distracting enough that she didn't feel terribly enclosed, and she turned and gave him a smile.

Tommy's grin widened and he walked in and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Glad to hear it, baby. You ready to knock 'em dead?"

Christine nodded, pleased to be able to ignore the prickle of unease when the band filed in and Tommy left, closing the door. Her claustrophobia was manageable as she stared at one of the Pre-war paintings, and Christine smiled and let the music take her away.

=====:=====

Miss Fortune had finished recording a particularly heart-wrenching rendition of "Heartaches by the Number" which Christine thought was too twangy, but Tommy thought it was sure to be a hit. She didn't particularly care so long as she got to keep her job at the theater.

A vague idea had occurred to Christine after a dream she'd had, one of Veronica and their past and how different things were. She hoped that wherever the brunette was, she was happy. In her distant past, she'd considered herself an amateur poet, and words had been somewhat like putty in her hands. She had once had the ability to write strings of words that meant something, but Elijah and the Big MT had stolen that from her. Despite all that, words started stringing themselves together in her mind, lyrics about Veronica and missing her but moving on into her own new life.

Christine had tried to think through the lyrics as best she could, trying to find meaningful words that would rhyme. Every time she started to make progress, either Tommy would burst into her dressing room and announce a new show, or someone else would interrupt her.

She grew frustrated with the lack of time to herself and finally asked Tommy if she could have a few days off and venture around by herself. As usual, he pressed her to take some bodyguards with her, but Christine raised an eyebrow and he relented. She sang a show that night, slept restlessly, and left first thing in the morning.

Christine didn't stray terribly far from New Vegas, making sure to never let the Lucky 38 disappear behind mountains, and let the silence of the wasteland soothe her. Out in the quiet, she could finally think. Once she found some geckos to hunt and cook, she allowed her mind to wander and the words started to flow easier.

She spent a day out in the wastes and slept under the stars, pleased at the way the lyrics were coming together. Part of her was desperate to write them down, lest she forget them, and she had a moment of hatred for Elijah robbing her of her ability to read and write. The courier's words echoed in her mind, urging her to let go, and Christine sighed. Elijah had paid for his crimes, and it did her no good to mourn what she had lost. As much of a struggle as it was, Christine knew she had to try and move forward.

Two days passed quickly, and the solitude brought Christine more peace than she had hoped for. Her song was nearly finished in her head, and she had nearly worked out a melody that Tommy's band could work with. She started heading back toward Vegas, aiming for the Lucky 38, but didn't rush herself and took time to enjoy the quiet.

Christine found a nice rock ledge and made sure the area was clear of roaming creatures before she settled there and looked out across the Mojave. The Strip loomed off to the west, a relative oasis in the middle of the desert.

She sighed and let her bag slip off her shoulder, pawing through it for her sketchbook and charcoal hunk. Christine chipped away at the charcoal until she had a good drawing point, then exhaled and let the warm breeze soothe her before she started drawing.

The picture under her hands started to take shape, but her mind was elsewhere, polishing the lyrics for her song.

Her charcoal had been worn down to a nub when the sun finally began to set, and Christine looked up and watched the colors swell over the mountains. She stretched and cracked her stiff joints, settling back to watch the day come to a close.

Movement below her caught her attention and Christine dropped her gaze to study the figure and their dog. Something seemed off about the dog, but the brown traveling clothes were unassuming and simple, so Christine gave the figure the benefit of the doubt.

The dog paused and seemed to catch Christine's scent, and the hooded figure beside it looked up and spotted Christine. They paused for a moment, hesitantly lifting a hand in a wave.

Christine waved back, deciding it would be better to not get shot. If a bullet didn't kill her, Tommy would. She snorted and allowed herself a wry grin, somewhat surprised to see the person walking toward her.

"You okay up there?" a woman's voice called.

"Just enjoying the view," Christine replied, hoping her voice wouldn't give away her singing identity.

The hooded woman paused. "It's going to get dark soon. Were you planning on staying out here or…? I mean, I'm going toward Vegas, and if you wanted…"

Christine considered it, deciding that she'd spent enough time out in the wastes for now. After all, she'd gotten the song finished, and she was sure Tommy would be eager to hear it. "Alright," she said, starting to pack up her things. She slung her pack over her shoulder and made her way down from her perch, walking toward the woman and her dog.

"Watch out," the hooded woman cautioned, reaching out as the dog ran toward her. "He doesn't—"

Christine paused and let the cyber dog approach her, slightly nervous at the unfinished warning hanging in the air. The dog sniffed at her, taking a few slow steps toward her, and finally wagged and trotted over to bump his nose into her hand.

"Uh, wow. Okay." The woman looked surprised. "Rex doesn't usually like strangers."

Christine smiled down at the dog, then looked up to her temporary companion. "He seems sweet to me." The woman looked friendly, too, though her skin was covered in grit and black grease. Christine opted not to comment on that; she was sure she didn't exactly look fresh and clean after a few days in the wastes, and she didn't want to embarrass the woman.

Burlap covered shoulders shrugged and the woman offered her a grin. "C'mon, before it gets dark."

Christine nodded agreeably and the trio took off, Rex darting off to trace different scents he picked up. Neither woman said much, keeping their eyes peeled for danger. A few geckos ran toward them, but Rex quickly took care of the creatures before they even got near the women.

"You look like you've been on some rough roads," the woman ventured after a while, eyes on Christine's scars.

Christine surprised herself by not feeling the need to cringe away from the woman's gaze; when most people stared at her scars, she felt self-conscious, but this woman seemed to care. "You could say that."

The woman considered it for a moment. "Well, where are you headed? I'm sort of a drifter, myself. I like seeing the world away from home, y'know?"

Christine nodded slowly. "I'm… not sure where I'm going yet. I thought I did, but… things changed. So now I guess I'm just waiting to see."

"Ooh, deep," the hooded woman teased, nudging at Christine with her elbow.

"What about you?" Christine returned, unable to stop a little grin from tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Where's home?"

"A hole in the ground," the woman replied matter-of-factly, as though it was the most common answer in the world.

Christine blinked and looked over at her. The woman didn't look like a cave dweller, so she had probably found some abandoned Pre-war bunker to live in, and the thought intrigued Christine. "Really?"

The woman nodded and shrugged. "It's not much. I mean, I live there with all my family, so it's nice to get out from time to time, you know? I guess that's why they decided I should be the one to get the groceries." Her nose wrinkled with an adorable smile and she tried to wipe the dust and grease off of her face. "Sorry, I look like crap. I was helping a friend of mine tinker with some stuff. This guy, Raul, is a whiz with a repair kit."

Christine found herself smiling as the woman kept talking, enjoying how expressive and witty her companion was. When the woman asked her questions, Christine found herself answering, talking around the details of her life that would give her away as a Brotherhood exile or the newest hit on the radio.

After a while, the hooded woman realized she hadn't asked Christine's name and started joking about Christine being a nameless ghost of the wastes. "You're, uh… not a ghost, right?"

Christine laughed and shook her head. "Nope. I bleed just like everyone else, believe me."

The woman's face darkened slightly and her eyes darted to the scars on Christine's face once again. "Oh. Well, um…" She seemed at a loss for a few moments, then shrugged to herself and raised an eyebrow at Christine. "I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours," the woman teased, shooting Christine an ornery grin.

Christine just smiled and said nothing.

"Oh, c'mon. Aren't you curious?"

The bald woman grinned and shrugged. "Not really." She raised an eyebrow at the hooded woman playfully, hoping not to offend her traveling companion.

"You're no fun." The woman stuck her tongue out at Christine, but dropped the topic and continued talking about other things, from what all she'd accomplished with her friend Raul to rumors about how Mr. House had managed to survive since before the Great War.

As they walked, the sun crept toward the horizon and the lights of the Strip cast a neon glow into the sky. Soon enough, they were approaching the gate to Freeside, and a few roaming Kings gave the pair wary looks.

The gates to the town squealed as they opened, and the women walked into the slum together. The silence had grown awkward as they neared the city, knowing that they'd be parting ways soon. Christine wasn't sure what to say, and the woman didn't seem to know either. "Goodbye" seemed too formal, which struck the singer as strange, since they didn't even really know each other.

Rex was an easy distraction near their feet until he spotted a rat, and then the cyber dog took off. A passing King shot the rat, the noise and sudden lack of prey startling the dog. Rex darted back to the woman's side, hiding behind her legs until the King walked away.

The burlap-clad woman hesitated near the Old Mormon Fort, giving Christine an uncertain glance. "Well, this is Freeside."

Christine nodded, keeping an eye on their surroundings; she wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea of getting mugged.

Rex stayed nearby, pacing around the women in a protective circle. He stopped every few seconds to sniff at something, but his ears kept twitching as he listened for danger.

The woman watched the dog for a few seconds, then looked back up at Christine. "Do you have somewhere safe to stay? I mean, Freeside's kind of a slum, and..." She shrugged and pulled a handful of caps out of her pocket. "I can get you a room in the Wrangler if you want...?"

Christine offered her companion a grin, pulling her Strip passport out of her bag. "I'll be fine."

The woman's eyes widened. "Wow, I didn't—I thought..."

Christine shrugged, but didn't elaborate on why she had a passport. She enjoyed the woman's company, but wasn't sure she wanted to reveal her celebrity status in the middle of Freeside. Without knowing who was listening, there was a good chance she'd get them both attacked for whatever caps they had.

Her new friend was obviously getting tired, as her constant talking had started to give way to silence, and Christine decided it might be best to bid her goodnight and let her return to her home so she could sleep.

"Thanks for the company," she offered, smiling.

The hooded woman grinned weakly and nodded. "No problem, you too. It was nice getting to know you."

Christine hesitated for a few moments, then shrugged slightly and lifted her hand in a small wave. "See you around."

She turned and trudged off toward the Strip gate, surprised when the woman laughed.

"Seems a little silly to split up now," she teased as she caught up to Christine, "considering I'm going the same way."

Christine felt foolish and gave her companion a sheepish grin. "You staying at the Wrangler, then?"

The woman shrugged. "Nah. I've got connections too," she joked, flashing her own passport at Christine.

"Vault 21," Christine guessed, remembering their introduction.

The hooded woman smiled and shook her head. "Nice try." She pushed her hood back off of her head as they walked past the Kings building, running a hand through her short, dark hair. "What about you? Are you with the NCR, staying over at the embassy?"

Christine made a face and shook her head.

"C'mon Rex, this way. Hm, okay…" The woman gave her a thoughtful glance. "Gomorrah?"

In the dim lights of Freeside, it was impossible to know for sure, but Christine could have sworn that the woman blushed slightly. "No, too much leather for my tastes," she deadpanned, smiling a little when the brunette coughed to hide embarrassment.

It didn't take her long to realize that her companion had been imagining her working at Gomorrah, and Christine fought off a blush of her own. It had been a long time since she'd felt attractive, but the sneaky glances the brunette was shooting at her and the way her voice had caught when she suggested Gomorrah made Christine feel like a normal, beautiful woman.

The securitrons stopped them at the gate to the Strip, putting a stop to the guessing game. Both women showed their passports, and were granted access to the Strip. Rex trotted along between them as they walked through the gate, and the brunette hesitated between Gomorrah and the Lucky 38.

"I think… I've got a friend who's probably trying to drown herself in whisky," the woman said. "She lost her caravan a while back, and… she doesn't deal with things very well."

Christine nodded, understanding that far better than she thought she should.

"So, uh, thanks for the company." The woman offered her a tired smile, then quietly called Rex to follow her and walked toward the fiery casino.

Christine watched her walk off, studying the faint warmth in her chest. It surprised her to think she could still feel; after Veronica, she'd never let herself focus on anything but getting revenge on Elijah. Now that she'd finally learned to let go of that hatred, Christine wondered if she'd be able to have a new beginning.

She walked back to the Tops, humming to herself without really realizing it. A new song was swirling in her head, one of hope for a new life and new chances for love. It was a little sappy, but Christine was sure that Tommy would love it. With visions of the burlap-clad woman fresh in her head, Christine couldn't keep a smile off her face, and had a feeling she was going to love the song, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Christine didn't see the brunette again, though she kept her eyes open and studied every face that was in the theater during her shows. Whenever she went out into the wastes, Christine found herself gravitating back to the spot she'd met the woman, hoping to run across her again. It never happened, and Christine resigned herself to perfecting the song she'd written with the brunette in mind. If nothing else, perhaps the woman would hear it on the radio, wherever she was, and remember Christine and smile.

The singer spent days reworking the song, getting every note right before she even presented it to Tommy. Just as she'd suspected, the manager thought the song was fantastic and immediately had the band start learning it.

Once Christine was content with the band's performance, Tommy whisked them off to the studio. Recording the song didn't take long, and Christine let the engineers master it while she headed back to the Tops.

Tommy came and found her in her room a few hours later, telling her that the song had sounded amazing and that it would be on the radio by morning. Christine smiled and thanked him, going back to doodling in her sketchbook. She'd tried to draw the woman from the wasteland a few times, but somehow the sketch always came out looking like Veronica, just like they always had, even before her exile. Christine snorted and crossed out the drawing, tossing her book aside and wondering if she'd ever completely let go of her past and move on.

She fell back onto her bed and sighed, wishing the circumstances of her life had been different. As she laid there and let memories wash over her, Christine dozed off, only waking up when someone knocked on her door a few hours later.

"Miss Fortune, you have a visitor," one of the security guards called through the door.

"Coming," she groaned, rubbing a hand over her face as she got up. Part of her hoped it was just some rich fan that had bribed their way up to get an autograph so she could go back to sleep, but when she opened the door, she was surprised to see the courier.

"Hey!" Six looked genuinely glad to see her. "I see you've gone and gotten famous since I last saw you."

Christine scoffed and stifled a yawn. "Says the man who apparently went to see the Boomers and lived to tell the tale."

The courier had the decency to look embarrassed. "I had three hundred caps riding on my survival," he joked, "how could I not?"

They both laughed and Six told her a little about the Boomers. Christine was somewhat surprised at the similarities between them and the Brotherhood, but decided not to mention it and get into a discussion about a group that had exiled her.

Six asked about her singing career and then went quiet, giving her a hesitant look. "Do you still… I can't forget the Madre," he admitted quietly, shaking himself. "It's just hanging in my head like the Cloud. I still wake up thinking I hear Elijah's voice."

Christine's heart sank, but she nodded. "I still hear Vera talking, not me, sometimes. It's… I'm sorry. If I'd taken Elijah down sooner, neither of us would have had to go through it."

Six gave her a strange look, but shook his head. "It's not your fault. Shit happens, Christine. Sometimes things get messed up, but I think they work out okay in the end." He rubbed at the scar across his forehead absently, and they lapsed into silence for a few minutes.

"Anyway," the courier remembered awkwardly, "I actually have a favor to ask. I've got this friend, and she's a huge fan of yours. I wondered if you could set aside some tickets for a show or something…?"

Christine cracked a smile; that much was easy. "Yeah, definitely. I can even talk to security and get you backstage after the show if you want."

Six looked stunned. "Seriously?"

Christine laughed and nodded. "Yeah, c'mon." She led him through the theater, hunting down Tommy, and then explained the situation. The showman grinned and took care of everything, going to the ticket office and returning with two tickets and backstage passes.

Even with the tickets in hand, Six was still shocked. "Wow. This is… thanks! She's gonna love this!"

Christine and Tommy both smiled at the courier, and Christine felt a wistful tug in her gut. She missed having someone to surprise and dote on. "I'll try and make it a great date night," she offered.

Six laughed. "She's not into me, trust me. I can't even get her to stick close when we're out in the wastes. She swears I'd have to be a leggy brunette first."

Christine felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Oh."

The courier was still chuckling when he punched her shoulder lightly. "Doesn't mean I don't expect a good show."

Tommy laughed. "With Miss Fortune here, you'll get the best damn show on the Strip."

Six grinned. "Thanks," he said again. "Now, do either of you know where I can get a dress?"

Tommy tapped his chin thoughtfully. "We might have something backstage, but I don't know if it'll fit you."

Six looked mortified at the thought. "No, not—I meant for my friend."

Tommy and Christine burst out laughing, and after a few moments Six joined in.

"Well, I might be able to pull it off," he joked, "but I don't think I've got the caps to get two nice dresses right now."

Christine didn't have any answers; her wardrobe consisted of menswear, which she enjoyed, but it had also been provided by the casino. She'd never thought about where to go find anything else and let Tommy give the courier a few tips, allowing herself to get distracted and watch Tommy's troupe practice a new routine.

"Okay, thanks," Six said, shaking hands with the manager. "I'll go see what they've got. Hey, Miss Fortune, I know it'll be a struggle for ya, but try and sing pretty, okay?" he joked.

Christine snorted and pretended to look thoughtful. "I'll try."

Six laughed and waved, leaving the theater.

"When's the show you gave him tickets for?" Christine asked, repeating her question once Tommy had finished yelling out critiques to the men on stage.

"Tomorrow night," Tommy told her with a grin. "What, you sweet on him? I saw the way you said 'date night.'"

Christine scoffed, rolling her eyes. "He's not my type," she told her manager. "I tend to go for people with, y'know, breasts."

Tommy looked surprised, then let out an embarrassed laugh. "Oh. Guess I didn't make the connection, even with the suits and all."

Christine smirked and shrugged. "That's just personal taste."

Tommy laughed again, then turned his attention back to the stage and called out a few critiques. Christine watched for a few moments, then slipped back out of the theater and back to her suite. She had some practicing to do.

=====:=====

Christine spent her morning rehearsing with the band, teaching them the song she'd had in her head. They didn't seem to be getting it, and Christine tried her best not to get frustrated. She knew she was just strangely nervous because Six was coming to the show with his friend and she wanted everything to be perfect. After all, she owed the courier her life, and she wasn't about to let the show be a shambles.

Once the band seemed to get the idea, Christine retreated to her suite and rehearsed by herself, eating and mentally preparing herself for the show. She hoped the sight of Six wouldn't bring back any haunting memories of the Sierra Madre during the show, and devised a plan in case she started to panic. There were sure to be plenty of faces in the crowd to focus on, and if nothing else, Tommy's irritated orders from offstage would help keep her centered.

A security guard came thirty minutes before the show and escorted her down the stairs to her dressing room. Christine changed into her usual stage outfit, buttoning up her vest and attempting to tie her bowtie in the mirror. She couldn't quite get it and knew Tommy would double check her before she walked out on stage, so Christine didn't worry about it too much. She wandered out into the wings and found the band, discussing the set list with them.

"Full house tonight," Tommy announced as he strode up, a pleased grin on his face. "You really know how to draw a crowd, Miss Fortune," he teased, waggling his eyebrows at Christine.

Christine smiled politely and lifted her shoulders in a shrug, tapping at her leg nervously.

Tommy left to do a dance routine with his troupe, and Christine followed him to the stage, lingering in the wings and looking out into the audience. Thanks to the stage lights, she couldn't make out the faces and retreated backstage.

A few minutes later, a panting Tommy came and ushered the band onto the stage. He adjusted Christine's bowtie, then signaled an announcer.

"And now, the star of tonight's show, Miss Fortune!"

Tommy gave her a nudge and Christine walked out on stage, stunned by the applause and cheering that greeted her. She smiled and waved, stepping up to the microphone.

The band hit the first few notes of the first song, the crowd quieted down, and Christine began to sing. The crowd drank in the sound of Christine's voice, hanging onto every note, and exploded with applause once the last phrase faded.

Christine bowed slightly, glancing at the band and signaling that they get ready to play the song she'd written in the wastes. The guitarist hit a few notes, which Christine found close enough to what she'd imagined, and she let the lyrics fall out of her mouth.

Her eyes had begun to adjust to the dim lighting in the theater and Christine could almost make out Six sitting with his friend at a table near the back. She let a smile grow at the corner of her mouth and nodded at the courier, noticing Six's friend react by bouncing in her seat and clutching at the courier's arm. Christine stifled a laugh and continued singing, relaxing and dancing slightly.

She finished the set and the band joined her for a final bow. The crowd went wild and gave them a standing ovation, some cheering for an encore.

Christine turned and mouthed a request to Tommy, and he nodded. She turned and whispered to the band, directing them to play the song she'd just recorded, then focused on the audience once again.

"One more song," she murmured into the microphone, smiling at the reaction to her words. "It's brand new, and just debuted on the radio today. I hope you like it."

More applause drowned out the band's counting, but when the musicians started to play, the crowd quieted down. Christine closed her eyes and listened to the music, opening her mouth and starting to sing. Her mind was filled with visions of the woman from the wasteland, and she let herself sing more powerfully than she had in the studio, hoping that somehow, the song would find its way to the woman she'd written it for.

As the song wound down, Christine lowered her voice and crooned out the last line, and the music faded into silence. For a moment, everyone in the theater was holding their breathing and hanging onto the last notes, then the room filled with deafening cheering.

Christine beamed as the house lights went up, reveling in the fact that she could still make people happy even after everything she'd been through.

Tommy ushered them offstage and congratulated them, promising them a bonus for the good show. Christine could practically see the bottle caps in his eye and chuckled as she went to her dressing room.

Christine shut the door and loosened her bowtie, looking out of the window and up at the brightly lit Lucky 38 casino. It had definitely been a good performance, and she was grateful. Hopefully the courier and his friend agreed, and Christine could hardly wait for Six to get backstage.

The knock at her door came a few agonizing minutes later, and Christine practically pounced on the doorknob. A security guard was standing there and he smiled at her, stepping aside and allowing Six and his friend entry.

"Hey there, Miss Fortune," the courier teased. "That was fantastic!" He gave her a quick one-armed hug, stepping back and grinning at his friend. "We both really enjoyed it."

Christine grinned at Six, then his friend. She found herself pausing at the sight of the brunette, shocked to find that she recognized her. It was her traveling companion from that day in the wastes, but without all the dust and grime and burlap, the woman was unmistakably—

"This is Veronica," Six said, gesturing to his friend.

Christine's blood ran cold and she stood there and stared at Veronica. The brunette flushed and shifted uncertainly, seeming completely star struck.

Six glanced between the women and stepped back toward the door. "I'll go get us something to drink," he offered, escaping the sudden awkwardness in the dressing room.

Christine's eyes were still locked on Veronica, taking in the sight of the brunette and trying to process the fact that Veronica was there in front of her. Veronica looked amazing, having grown into a beautiful woman, with the dress she was wearing accentuating her figure.

"I, uh… I loved the song," Veronica managed, obviously bashful. "Well, all of them. I mean… ugh. It was a great show." She rubbed at the carpet with her shoe, risking a flustered glance up at the bald woman. "I can't believe I met you and didn't even recognize your voice." She looked even more embarrassed a moment later. "And I was wearing those clothes."

"Thanks," Christine said after a moment, struggling to remember how to speak. She was still reeling and didn't feel like she could get enough air into her lungs. "I've been trying to keep my identity secret."

Veronica nodded slowly, her cheeks pink. "It keeps all your fans from swarming you. God, I can't believe I didn't recognize your voice! I can't believe I'm meeting you! I mean, you're Miss Fortune!" She caught herself, realizing she'd been gushing, and bit her lip embarrassedly. "Sorry, I just… I really like listening to you on the radio." The brunette ducked her head, unable to look at Christine. "But yeah, I loved the song."

Christine felt like she'd been kicked in the chest. Veronica didn't recognize her. When she remembered the scars marking her skin, Christine had to restrain a bitter snort. "Yeah. I… I wrote it about a girl I used to know. She kind of… you remind me of her."

Veronica blushed again, unable to look at Christine.

The singer felt a hollow smile grow on her face at the sight of the embarrassed brunette. She had no idea what to say, or whether or not she should reveal her identity; for all she knew, Veronica could have forgotten about her or started to hate her.

Another awkward silence stretched out between the pair, and after a few moments, Veronica's eyes flicked up to study Christine's scars again.

This time, Christine wanted to turn away in shame, hating that Veronica had to see what a wreck she'd become. Instead, she offered Veronica an uncomfortable smile and stood there, pretending she didn't feel somewhat sick.

The courier returned a few minutes later, three bottles of beer in his hands. He handed one to Christine, passed one to Veronica, and lifted his own in a toast. "To a great performance!"

Their bottles clinked together, and the three drank. Christine took an extra swallow, wishing the drink were a little stronger.

Six talked a little more about the show, but seemed to notice that Veronica was still star struck and Christine was uncomfortable, so he quieted down.

"Well, uh… Thanks, Miss Fortune," he said slowly, extending his arm to Veronica. "It was a fantastic show."

Veronica nodded emphatically, back to being flustered in Christine's presence.

Christine could hardly find it in herself to respond. "Glad you enjoyed it," she managed.

Six smiled and gently tugged Veronica toward the door. "We'll get out of your way. Have a good night."

"You too," Christine offered, watching as Six led Veronica out of her dressing room. She swallowed, her mind spinning, and tried to make sense of what had just happened. It took her a minute to realize that Veronica was walking away, disappearing from her life yet again, and Christine didn't want that to happen. She darted out of her dressing room, toward the theater, and managed to track the courier down before he left.

"Look, I… Here, just—c'mon." She led the pair to Tommy and arranged for them to have tickets for another show in a few days, trying to ignore the awed look on Veronica's face. "Thanks for coming."

Six gave her a surprised grin, but thanked her and led Veronica away. Christine could hear the brunette gushing about the show before the theater doors closed and her shoulders sagged.

"That's a first," Tommy commented from beside her. "Better watch it, or all your fans'll be clamoring for extra tickets from Miss Fortune herself."

Christine gave him a sharp look. "Take it outta my pay, I don't care."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "You okay there?"

The singer looked away and shrugged.

Tommy followed her gaze and nodded as though he understood. "The girl?"

Christine nodded once and turned to walk back to her dressing room. She wasn't sure if she was irritated or numb when she realized Tommy was following her, but she didn't stop him. He walked with her to her dressing room, where they both hesitated outside.

"What about her?" Tommy prompted gently. "You're quiet, but you don't clam up like this much."

She paused, trying to figure out how to respond. Christine opened her mouth, but nothing came out, so she settled for a shrug. "She… We used to be close, but everything went to hell, and…" She gestured weakly toward her scars. "She doesn't recognize me."

The showman gave her a sympathetic look, obviously at a loss for words. "You hopin' that'll change? Givin' her tickets, I mean… Most people I know would've let her go on her way."

Christine stared at the carpet for a few minutes, numbly wondering why she hadn't just let Veronica leave. Inviting Veronica back to another show was only going to reopen old wounds and hurt, but Christine was still drawn to the brunette. After all the years she'd spent fighting for justice for the both of them, turning Veronica away was preposterous.

"I don't know," she said finally. She shrugged once more, then mumbled a goodnight and let herself into her room. Standing there in the small space, she could almost still see Veronica gazing at her.

Christine swallowed hard, took another swig from the bottle she'd set aside, and quickly changed out of her stage outfit. She slipped out of her dressing room and went back up to her suite, falling into her bed and hoping to dream of anything but the brunette.


	4. Chapter 4

Her mind was no less foggy when Christine woke the next morning, and she groaned as she ground the heels of her hands into her eyes. Judging by the fuzzy taste in her mouth and the empty bottle at her bedside, the previous night hadn't just been a dream. Veronica was in her life once again, if only for a day or two.

As she went about her day, Christine's thoughts lingered on Tommy's words. So much time had passed and so many things had changed… Christine wondered if it wouldn't be better to let Veronica go. They didn't know each other anymore, despite Christine having relived the memories of their relationship thousands of times. She couldn't deny the wistfulness inside herself, wanting and wondering if she'd be able to let go of the feelings that still lingered.

It would be painless for the brunette, since she didn't recognize Christine at all, and from what the singer could tell, Veronica was happy. Christine sighed and rubbed at her forehead, her fingers running over her scars. She knew how to deal with pain, so letting go of Veronica would be survivable.

The thoughts wouldn't leave her alone, and by the time the next show came around, Christine had decided she would just let Veronica go and let them both move on with their lives. She waited in the wings, knowing that she just had to put on a show once more, and then never have to see Veronica again. The thought was somehow soothing, and Christine found herself putting on a smile and stepping out onto the stage when she was announced.

The moment the lights went down and her eyes adjusted, Christine scanned the crowd. She spotted Six and Veronica easily, offered them a polite nod, and couldn't help a smile at the awed look on Veronica's face.

As she sang, Christine found that she couldn't keep her eyes off the brunette; even when she tried to look away, her gaze kept flicking back to meet Veronica's. Part of her considered it tragically ironic that she was singing hopeful love songs, but the rest of her ignored that and tried to give Veronica a show to remember.

When the last notes were fading, Christine felt a lump rise in her throat. She hadn't been able to ignore the brunette, and the building emotion in her chest told her she wasn't likely to forget Veronica any time soon.

The thought of Veronica not knowing who she was made Christine ache, but being able to see the happy, beautiful woman Veronica had become was worth it. Just knowing that Veronica was happy was enough for the singer.

Christine retreated offstage, paying little attention to the people that congratulated her on another great performance. She found a guard and told him to take more tickets to Veronica and Six, promising to pay him as soon as Tommy handed over her caps. The man nodded and headed out into the theater, and Christine grabbed a bottle of whiskey and went up to her suite. She sipped at the drink as she got ready for bed, hoping to drown out the emotions that were threatening to swallow her whole.

=====:=====

Christine's life fell into a routine over the next few weeks. She would rehearse with the band during the day and sing at night, always scanning the audience for Veronica. The brunette always showed up, sometimes with the courier, and sometimes alone. Seeing Veronica in the crowd was soothing to the singer, and Christine almost felt like they were becoming friends again.

The singer hadn't invited Veronica to her dressing room since that first night, terrified of what she might say. While smiling across an audience wasn't exactly the quality time a friendship required, Christine still thought that she could sense some closeness between them. The logical part of her brain knew she was projecting, but for the first time in years, Christine Royce decided to listen to her heart.

Whenever Christine went out into the wasteland, she went to the same place she'd met Veronica, always hoping to see the brunette again. The wasteland was still and empty, though, and Christine always returned to the Strip disappointed.

The brunette always unknowingly made it up to her, sitting in the theater wearing a bright yellow dress and a warm smile that made Christine weak in the knees.

Until the evening that Veronica didn't show up, that is. Christine got on stage and scanned the crowd as usual, singing a song or two while her eyes adjusted to the stage lights. A slight frown creased her brow and she checked the theater again, only to realize that Veronica wasn't there.

Christine's stomach dropped and she had to focus to remember what song she was singing. Images of Veronica's broken body out in the wastes flashed before her and Christine faltered, missing an entire line of the song.

The crowd murmured and Tommy hissed at her from the wings. The song finished and Tommy called a quick intermission, dragging Christine off stage.

"What the hell?" he barked, hauling her away from most of the crew. "What was that?!"

Christine couldn't quite get words to form and settled on shrugging.

Tommy scowled at her, grabbing a flask of whiskey from inside his jacket and offering it to her. "Get it under control," he told her. "These people are here for a show, not a stammering mess!"

"Sorry," she managed, taking a swig of the alcohol and coughing as it burned down her throat.

Tommy took the bottle back and tucked it away again, giving her another hard look. "Gimme one good song," he said. "But if I have to hand out refunds, it's coming out of your pay."

Christine nodded and took a deep breath, attempting to banish the thought of Veronica being hurt. "Sorry," she said again. "I'll do my best."

Tommy's eye softened and he patted her on the shoulder. "The show's all I got, baby," he murmured. "I know you got a killer voice in you, just let it out for another few songs."

Christine gave him another nod and straightened her vest. "Okay."

She walked back toward the stage and Tommy went to the microphone.

"And we're back, folks! Here once again is Miss Fortune!"

The crowd applauded politely, obviously uncertain after the poor performance she'd just given. Christine gave the audience an apologetic smile and took her place at the microphone. She closed her eyes before she could see Veronica's absence again, nodding slightly as the band counted and began to play.

Music filled her ears and Christine let the words and melodies flow out of her like water from a spring. Without being able to see the empty table Veronica usually sat at, it was easier to pretend that the brunette was there. Christine let the thought soothe her, and the music that filled the theater had the audience in awe.

The sound of the door opening was faint over the music, but Christine's eyes snapped open anyway. At the back of the room near the door, a new figure had slipped in, dressed in traveling clothes. Christine instantly recognized the woman, nearly dropping to her knees with relief.

Veronica offered her a sheepish smile and leaned against the wall so she wouldn't disturb anyone, enjoying the music.

The sight of the brunette made Christine feel like she could take on the entire Legion army and come out unscathed, and the singer beamed. She finished the song, then turned to the band and directed them to play one of the newest ones she'd written, hoping to impress Veronica with the new material.

Her eyes were on Veronica as she began to sing, and only after the first verse did she remember that she'd written the song about the brunette. Flowing lines about seconds chances and memories of stolen kisses echoed out across the theater. Christine saw Veronica dab at her eyes and was torn between wanting to comfort the scribe and being pleased that she'd written a touching song.

Christine hit a smooth low note to end the song, waved to the crowd, and slipped off into the wings. She could hear the crowd applauding and preparing to leave, and Christine ran to the nearest guard and told them to bring Veronica to her dressing room.

She retreated to her little room and started pacing, hoping that the brunette hadn't already escaped the theater. Her heart thudded in her chest, each beat a reminder of the time that was passing without Veronica arriving.

The second the light knock came at Christine's door, she darted over and twisted the knob. Veronica was standing in the hall looking flustered, but murmured a quiet thank you when Christine stepped aside to let her into the dressing room.

"Sorry I was late," Veronica said with an apologetic smile. "Six and I were out doing… stuff. But what I heard was awesome!"

Christine didn't see any obvious injuries and relaxed. "It's okay. I'm glad you could make it."

Veronica's smile grew, but she remained silent, rubbing at a stain in the carpet with her boot.

Christine had a million different things to say, but felt like she was mute all over again. Her emotions were swirling like a wild storm; knowing that Veronica was unharmed and alive was simultaneously relieving and exhilarating. Despite the brunette not recognizing her, Christine wanted to sweep her up in an embrace and never let her go.

"I've never heard that last song before," Veronica offered, giving Christine a bashful smile.

Before Christine could stop herself, fateful words fell out of her mouth. "It's about you."

Veronica blinked. A stunned expression took over her face and she gawked at Christine. "What?"

Christine's blood ran cold and her hands started shaking as she realized what she'd said. The singer swore under her breath, realizing that there was no going back. "I wrote that song about you," she repeated, curling her hands into fists to hide their trembling.

A tense silence grew between them. Christine stared down at the floor, overwhelmed with anxiety about Veronica's reaction.

"I, uh… I didn't know our walk to the Strip left such an impression on you," Veronica joked weakly.

"You've always… I liked being around you the first time I met you," Christine admitted, lifting her gaze to look at Veronica.

The brunette looked embarrassed and tugged at her traveling clothes uncomfortably. She frowned at the dust on her boots, then tried to smile. "Thanks, I guess." It was obvious that she was ashamed of her appearance, and Christine was tempted to tell her she was beautiful even if she was covered in dirt.

Christine reached out to touch Veronica's arm, then thought better of it and let her hand fall back to her side. "Veronica, I…"

The brunette watched her for a moment, waiting for a response that didn't come. Veronica bit her lip, hesitated, and then opened her mouth. "Why'd you write about me?"

Christine faltered. It would be so easy to lie, but the sight of the honey colored eyes erased that thought from her mind. "You really don't recognize me, do you?" Her tone sounded bitter in her own ears and Christine cringed.

Veronica didn't seem put off, only puzzled.

"I remember you," Christine admitted, blazing forward before she could change her mind. "From before… Before Helios."

Veronica paled, her confusion visibly deepening. Her brow furrowed as she studied the singer, but Christine didn't see any recognition in the scribe's brown eyes.

"Yeah, I guess that's what I get," Christine muttered, feeling defeated. This was a mistake, she decided. She shouldn't have let this conversation begin; it was only going to lead to pain, but it was too late now.

Veronica looked hurt at the dejection in the bald woman's voice. "Who are you?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

Christine exhaled before turning a daring look on the brunette. "Do you really want to know?"

Uncertainty flashed in Veronica's eyes, but she nodded slowly.

The words were so easy in Christine's mind, but speaking them was another matter altogether. The singer tugged at the cuffs of her sleeves, well aware that she was fidgeting. "I didn't tell you my name out in the wasteland, remember?" The stall tactic made her cringe and the bald woman sighed. "I'm Christine."

Veronica made a strange noise, somewhere between a gasp and a muffled yelp, and Christine looked away so she wouldn't have to see the anger on Veronica's face.

The singer waited for harsh words or for Veronica to leave, but neither woman moved for a long moment. When she could stand it no longer, Christine risked a glance at Veronica. There was no anger in the brown eyes that were focused on her, and Christine wasn't quite sure what to think.

"My Christine?" Veronica asked weakly.

Christine nodded, already planning the best way to leave the Strip without Tommy being able to find her. She didn't want to stay if her presence was going to hurt Veronica, and she knew she'd sacrifice everything in a heartbeat if it meant keeping the brunette happy. "Sorry," she said after a moment. "I shouldn't have brought this up. Look, I… I can leave, if you want me to. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it."

Veronica snorted. "How about answering some questions?"

It was the least she could do, and Christine knew she owed that to the brunette after the bomb she'd just dropped on her. "Okay." She was still contemplating the best way to get out of her job and leave, but Veronica's brow furrowed.

"And don't leave again," the brunette added, a pleading tone in her voice.

The words felt like a kick in the stomach and Christine nodded meekly. She looked away and waited for the inquisition to begin, preparing for a slew of angry, sharp questions.

Veronica remained silent, though, gazing at Christine through awed eyes. The wonder on Veronica's face made Christine uncomfortable, but finally the scribe spoke. "Since when do you sing?" There was a hint of teasing in the taller woman's tone.

Christine rubbed at the back of her neck. "For a few months now, I guess."

"Your voice is different."

The singer nodded, cringing when she realized how much there was to explain. When she looked up at Veronica again, Christine was surprised to see a complete absence of anger in the honey colored eyes she loved so much.

A faint smile was growing at the corner of Veronica's mouth and she cocked her head as she regarded the bald woman. "How many of the songs you sang were about me?" she asked after a moment, stumbling over the words nervously.

"All of the ones I wrote." Christine ducked her head, embarrassed. "Except the one about the lonely lakelurk."

Veronica hesitated before a weak snort escaped her.

Christine gave the brunette an alarmed look before realizing Veronica was just laughing. Relief washed over her and Christine surprised herself by chuckling in response.

The laughter was strange, yet contagious, and for a few moments both women could do nothing but laugh. When they finally composed themselves, the tension was gone from the room.

"I listened to you on the radio every chance I got," Veronica admitted, the tips of her ears darkening with a blush. "And I… I fell in love with your voice and the songs you were singing."

Christine didn't know what to say, but she didn't want to leave the scribe hanging. "Small world," she managed after a few moments, hating the words the second they left her mouth. She was sure Veronica would be offended and walk away from her, and Christine's heart thudded uncomfortably in her chest.

Veronica only nodded, grinning and gazing at the singer. "You look pretty good all dressed up."

That Veronica saw past the scars was touching, and Christine had to swallow hard before she trusted her voice. "So do you. You're… God, you're gorgeous, Vee."

The pair gazed at each other for a moment, both aware of the charge in the air. A light blush darkened Veronica's cheeks, and the brunette bit her lip subconsciously. Christine gazed up into Veronica's eyes, entranced by the woman before her.

After a moment, a sigh escaped Veronica's lips. "The hell with it," she muttered, stepping close and catching Christine's mouth in a kiss, her hands coming up to cradle Christine's cheeks.

The singer's mind went blank, lost in the warmth of Veronica's kiss. Veronica lingered there, her lips sweet against Christine's as she kissed her again. Everything else melted away, and Christine only remembered breathing was necessary when Veronica finally pulled away from her.

"Sorry," the brunette murmured breathlessly, her eyes bright and unapologetic. "I just… Yeah."

Christine was almost too dazed to remember how to speak, and it took her a few minutes to find words to say.

The brunette had taken her silence as distress and was rambling, apologizing more sincerely and offering to leave. Christine finally managed to compose herself enough to speak and caught Veronica's arm before the woman could walk away. "Don't apologize, not for that. It's just…" She looked up at Veronica, her heart swelling at the gentleness in the taller woman's eyes. "It's been a long time, and…" Her voice trailed off and Christine was at a complete loss for words. She really wanted to kiss Veronica again, but part of her knew that they needed to talk before that could happen.

A flicker of disappointment was obvious in Veronica's eyes for a second, replaced with understanding almost immediately. "Yeah. I know." She studied Christine for a moment, smiling nervously. "Can we… I don't know, do you want to get breakfast or something, so we can talk?"

Christine nodded instantly. "That sounds great."

Veronica beamed. "I can meet you down in the lobby at around nine, if you want?"

"I'll be there," Christine promised.

The women shared a smile, and Veronica awkwardly offered her hand to Christine. The handshake wasn't at all what Christine wanted, but she knew that it was enough for now.

"I should get back," Veronica said after a few moments. "Six is probably wondering where I went." She gave the door a reluctant glance, offering Christine a shrug. "I sort of disappeared on him to try and make it to the show," she explained sheepishly.

The singer grinned at the thought, nodding again. "Yeah."

"Yeah," Veronica echoed, gazing at Christine fondly.

Noise and laughter outside of the dressing room snapped both women out of their thoughts and they looked to the door together.

"I should go," Veronica said again, sounding firm. She stepped over to the door and paused with her hand on the handle, looking at Christine again. "See you in the morning?" When the singer nodded, a bright smile grew on Veronica's face. "Awesome. Good night," she murmured, ducking out of the room.

It took everything Christine had to restrain herself from chasing Veronica down the hall and kissing her again. The singer smiled to herself and changed, then went up to her room and began crafting a song about hope for the future.


	5. Chapter 5

Christine was awake early, before the sun rose and well before one of the guards gave her the wakeup call she'd asked for. She took a long bath, scrubbing her skin until she was almost raw. Once she was cleaned and dried, Christine went digging through her decidedly small wardrobe, trying to find something clean and flattering. Eventually she settled on a dark, slim top and some clean pants, pulling them on and looking at the clock again.

The minutes ticked by at an agonizing rate, so much that Christine checked to make sure her clock wasn't broken. Disgruntled and anxious, Christine sank onto the foot of her bed and closed her eyes. The lyrics from her new song trickled through her mind and Christine spent the next half hour tweaking and perfecting them until she was satisfied.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts and Christine looked at the clock. It was just before nine.

"You have a visitor down in the lobby," one of the guards called from outside the room.

Veronica was a few minutes early and Christine let her breath out in a rush. "Coming!"

The singer all but bolted down the stairs, pausing just before she walked out onto the casino floor so she could catch her breath. Veronica was waiting by the front desk, studying the architecture absently.

Christine smiled at the mere sight of the woman, strolling over to her as casually as she could manage. "Good morning!"

Veronica looked over and flashed the singer a bright smile. "Hey!" The brunette's eyes were happy and she studied Christine as the singer approached. "Nice bed hair," Veronica commented.

Christine had a moment of panic before she realized the brunette was just teasing her. "Thanks, I styled it myself, just for you." She ran a hand over her bald head and grinned.

Veronica laughed, tucking her hands in her pockets. "So, are you hungry?"

Her nervousness had ruined her appetite, but Christine nodded anyway. "Did you have somewhere in mind?"

The brunette shrugged, glancing over Christine's shoulder. "There's the restaurant here, but… I don't know, I didn't know if you'd want to eat there, since you live here?"

Christine gave her a smile. "Good idea. I probably don't need any in-house rumors circulating," she joked, smiling at the brief curiosity in Veronica's eyes.

"The Ultra Luxe is creepy," Veronica announced after a moment, raising her eyebrows at Christine. "So I guess that narrows it down to Gomorrah or the Wrangler?"

"You pick."

Veronica thought for a moment, then smiled and offered Christine her arm. "The Wrangler sounds good to me. I don't know that I could stomach a male stripper this early in the morning."

Christine laughed and the pair headed out across the Strip and toward Freeside. They joked about their first meeting and walking into New Vegas together, talking about nothing to fill the silence. Christine kept her eyes peeled as they entered Freeside, ready to go on the defensive in case a mugger came at them.

They made it to the Atomic Wrangler without incident and Veronica led Christine inside. The brunette greeted the Garrets and asked for two breakfast menus before steering Christine to a table near the back.

"Not too shabby for Freeside, huh?" she said cheerily, sitting across from Christine.

Christine nodded, thanking the waiter that brought them menus. She cringed inwardly as she picked up the menu, pretending to study it while Veronica picked out her own meal.

After a few moments, the scribe nodded to herself and set her menu aside, grinning at Christine. "What're you getting?"

Christine shrugged. "Whatever you're getting."

Veronica hesitated, a slight frown forming on her face. "Uh… my favorite's pretty bland. They've got some spicier stuff, if you still like that…?" The brunette faltered as the words left her mouth, obviously realizing how much time had passed and how much things could have changed.

Christine offered Veronica a smile, hoping to soothe the distress on the scribe's face.

It worked and Veronica relaxed slightly before pointing to the menu. "How about that? Or this one? Six tried that once and swore he'd never eat anything else."

Christine stared at the jumbled symbols on the menu and sighed. "Sure, that's fine."

The frown reappeared on Veronica's face and she was quiet for a moment. "What's wrong?"

The truth hurt to think about, and Christine looked away so she wouldn't have to watch Veronica's face change. "I can't read, Veronica."

A vaguely distressed look passed over the brunette's face, but she didn't ask questions. Her eyes flicked to the scars crossing Christine's scalp and her face dropped further.

Neither of them got the chance to say anything else before the waiter returned. Veronica ordered for herself and Christine asked for another plate of the same. The scribe stayed mostly quiet until the food came, watching a few gamblers play slots in the room across the casino.

Christine settled for playing with the cuffs of her sleeves, unwilling to risk a glance at the brunette and see the sadness in her eyes again.

Their food came and both women started eating, though neither of them were particularly hungry. Christine ate slowly, the pancakes turning to mush on her tongue. She found that she didn't care for them, but eating was a distraction from the conversation she knew was coming.

A few minutes passed before the scribe finally spoke. "So…" Veronica pushed her plate aside and rested her elbows on the table. "I guess we should probably talk, huh?"

Christine's stomach turned over uneasily and she nodded, forcing herself to swallow.

Veronica was quiet for a few long moments, staring at the table. "You can't read?"

"Not anymore." Christine stacked her plate on top of Veronica's, no longer hungry.

Sadness passed across Veronica's face again and she gave Christine a sorrowful look. "I'm sorry."

Christine shrugged. "Poetry's out. But I'm doing okay, I guess. I can still write in my head." She saw that the scribe's distress wasn't easily soothed and offered Veronica a small smile. "It helps when I have a beautiful woman to write about."

Veronica snorted, but the tips of her ears flushed and she looked away. Another long, agonizing silence passed before the brunette let out a small laugh. "I don't even know where to start. I mean, you disappearing, your voice… Elijah…"

Christine was surprised by the lack of resentment in Veronica's voice, and she offered the scribe a cautious shrug. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

It was a tall order, but Christine was willing to try and fill it. She started from the beginning, detailing what had transpired in the Brotherhood that had led to her exile, and carried on the story from there. Veronica listened intently, interjecting with an occasional question, and time melted away as the women talked.

Christine did her best to talk around Elijah, for fear of upsetting Veronica, but the brunette seemed to already know about the former Elder's demise.

"Six told me," she explained, tracing her fingers around the rim of her glass. "It was hard, but… I knew it'd happen someday."

Christine wasn't sure what to say to that, so she just reached over and placed her hand on top of Veronica's. The brunette gave her a sad smile in response, prompting her to continue.

"Six is… he's a good man," Christine said after a moment, trying not to shudder as memories of the Sierra Madre danced through her mind. "He saved my life, and he got me the job at the Aces."

Veronica's face softened and she bit her lip for a moment. "I really need to thank him."

Christine smiled. "Me too."

The brunette nodded, gazing down at Christine's hand and shifting her fingers slightly to intertwine them with Christine's. "I'm surprised he didn't find a way to kill you. Elijah, I mean." Veronica sighed. "He was… paranoid, I guess. When he finally left the Brotherhood, everyone was half-afraid he'd set the bunker to self-destruct."

The alarm that showed on Christine's face was enough to make Veronica chuckle.

"He didn't, don't worry. It's just… I miss him, but I don't miss who he became." Her eyes flicked back up to Christine's scars and her brow furrowed. "I'm glad he can't hurt anyone anymore."

Christine allowed herself a smile at the protectiveness in Veronica's eyes. She sat there and studied Veronica for a moment, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. "What about you?" Christine asked after a few minutes of silence. "What happened?"

Veronica looked grateful for the distraction and began explaining what had happened in the time since Christine had last seen her. She told stories of a confused, scared Brotherhood, an urge to get out and travel, things she had seen and places she had visited, and even mentioned meeting Six.

As Christine listened, she was struck by how much Veronica had changed since they were young. The brunette across from her had grown and matured into a strong, intelligent woman, yet still had the same charm that Christine had fallen in love with years ago.

The pair talked for hours, morning bleeding into afternoon, and Christine only realized what time it was when a mildly annoyed waiter came over to offer them lunch menus.

She and Veronica apologized and paid their bills, then took their leave of the casino. They walked back to the Strip together, lapsing into silence once more.

When Veronica slowed outside of the Lucky 38, Christine hated that their time together was over, even if the conversation had strayed to uncomfortable topics. She stopped and turned to look at the brunette, embarrassed by the shy smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"Thanks," Veronica said after a few moments. "For, uh, for going with me. And for answering all those questions. It's a lot to take in, but… Thanks." She gave the singer a weary smile and shrugged.

Sadness was still lingering in Veronica's eyes and Christine felt her stomach twist. "I'm sorry if it wasn't what you wanted to hear."

"Don't be," Veronica replied, shaking her head. "I'm… glad I know, I guess. It's better than always wondering."

They smiled at each other weakly, and Veronica muttered a goodbye before retreating into the casino. Christine watched her disappear behind the large doors, her shoulders sagging.

It occurred to her that Veronica might not want to see her again, not after everything Christine had explained. As much as she had hated Elijah, she could understand the fatherly figure he'd been to Veronica. After losing her own parents due to her exile, Christine understood how lonely that could be. She shoved her hands into her pockets and started walking toward the Tops, trying not to think about losing the brunette.

"Is that Miss Fortune?" someone cried, snapping the singer out of her thoughts.

Christine swore under her breath and started jogging toward the casino, but didn't quite make it before an eager crowd surrounded her. She kept her head low and tried to shoulder through the mass of people. She'd nearly made it to the doors when a camera flashed in her face.

The burst of light was an instant reminder of holorifle shots coming toward her and Christine panicked. Her blood ran cold and she couldn't get enough air into her lungs.

Luckily, the doors to the casino opened and a few Chairmen ran out.

"Hey, hey, back off!" Swank barked, shoving through the crowd and catching Christine's arm. "No harassing anyone on my watch!"

The crowd started protesting, but a few of the Chairmen gave them sharp looks and silently flashed their guns. Christine didn't get to see if that was enough to scare them off; Swank led her inside and pulled the door shut.

"You okay, baby doll? I saw you startin' to flip." Swank was wearing a concerned look.

Christine exhaled shakily and nodded. "Thanks, Swank."

He studied her for a minute, waiting until he was sure she was all right. "No problem, babe." He reached inside his coat and pulled out a flash. "Here, it'll calm your nerves. Got a show tonight?"

Christine nodded and took a sip, trying not to cough as the liquid burned down her throat.

Swank grinned at the look on her face and took the bottle from her. "Good luck, Miss Fortune. The boys and me'll try and keep your fan club from bothering you."

She offered him a shaky smile. "Thanks." The doorman bowed theatrically, then returned his attention to the dissipating crowd outside.

Christine retreated to her room, her thoughts off of the scribe and racing with horrific memories of her pursuit of Elijah. The drink Swank had given her had calmed her nerves, but only slightly. Christine opened her fridge and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, taking a swig and stashing it away again immediately.

She went and collapsed on her bed, spending a few minutes trying to think of anything but Elijah. Finally, she reached for her sketchbook and began drawing, letting a rough outline take shape on the page. She began to refine the details, completely focused on the drawing. Soon she found herself gazing at a sketch of Veronica sitting across from her at breakfast, a thoughtful look on her face.

Christine smiled in spite of herself, stretching to rid her muscles of their stiffness. Thoughts of Elijah had vanished from her mind, and she went down to the restaurant to get some lunch.

Tommy caught her on the way back up to her room, reminding her of the songs she was supposed to sing that evening. The mere mention of the show made Christine's stomach twist uncertainly, once again wondering if Veronica was going to even bother to come.

She nodded at all the right points while Tommy talked to her, her mind on the brunette. As soon as she could, Christine escaped up to her room once again and found herself staring at the drawing.

Christine knew she cared about the scribe, and was sure she would do anything if Veronica asked her to. That was the whole reason she'd been so honest with her about her own disappearance. If Christine really thought about it, everything that she had been through was overwhelming, even to her, and she couldn't imagine how Veronica was dealing with the influx of information.

As the show drew near, Christine felt herself get more and more nervous at the thought of Veronica disappearing from her life. She wouldn't blame the scribe, not exactly, but Christine knew that losing Veronica again would devastate her.

A guard came and got her when it was time to get prepared, leaving her alone with her thoughts as they walked down the stairs to the theater. A passing member of the band grinned at Christine, giving her a hopeful thumbs up as she headed for her dressing room.

The show began soon after, everything a whirl around her as Christine tried to shake her fears about Veronica leaving. She stood back in the wings, waiting anxiously for her performance. Worries about whether or not Veronica would show up ate at her, and by the time Tommy announced her, Christine was a complete wreck.

She walked out onto the stage and took her place behind the microphone mechanically, desperately waiting for her eyes to adjust to the stage lights. The first song began and Christine started singing, grateful when the lights went down.

Her heart nearly skipped a beat when she saw Veronica sitting near the front in her favorite yellow dress. In spite of the song, which was something about heartbreak, Christine smiled.

Veronica grinned and twiddled her fingers in a wave, listening intently.

Christine felt like she could take on the entire Legion and finished the set, hitting all the high notes and receiving thunderous applause. Before she ran off stage, she looked at Veronica and mouthed a question. "Are we okay?"

Veronica nodded as soon as she figured out what the singer had said, smiling and getting to her feet. She raised her eyebrows at the stage door, her smile growing when Christine nodded emphatically.

The singer couldn't wipe the smile from her face as she jogged off the stage, and immediately headed for the stage door. One of the guards let Veronica through, and Christine greeted the brunette with a warm grin.

Veronica's smile grew to match Christine's, and she wrapped the singer up in a hug. "Great job," the scribe murmured, resisting when Christine tried to lead her to the dressing room. "Sorry, I don't think I can hang around tonight," she apologized instantly, a sheepish, regretful smile on her face. "Six and I are going somewhere in the morning, and I'm pretty sure he wants to get going before sunrise." The scribe made a face at the thought, her apologetic smile returning a moment later.

Christine was disappointed, but that was overshadowed by the fact that Veronica hadn't left. "That's okay. Just… you're not going to disappear, are you?"

Confusion spread across Veronica's face. "Why would I do that?"

"After everything this morning… I wasn't sure if you'd show up," Christine admitted, dropping her gaze to the floor.

Veronica chuckled. "No way. And give up seeing my favorite celebrity?" She gave Christine a playful nudge, taking her hand. "It's a lot to think about, but I'm not just gonna ditch you, Chris."

The singer's shoulders sagged with relief, and she looked up and offered the scribe a grin. "Thanks."

Veronica smiled down at her, her eyes happy. After a moment, she sighed and gave Christine's hand a squeeze. "I should probably get going. Six likes to ruin my beauty sleep."

The warmth of Veronica's fingers through hers filled Christine with affection. "You're beautiful anyway," she murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth when Veronica's cheeks flushed. Christine laughed and stretched up to press a gentle kiss to Veronica's cheek. "Be careful."

The scribe looked completely flustered, but managed to stammer out a reassurance that she'd be fine. Veronica shot her a silly grin before saying goodnight and leaving.

When Christine turned around, Tommy was standing there with a knowing smile on his face. He didn't say anything, just offered the singer her pay and walked off to his dressing room.

Christine tucked the caps into her pocket, loosened her bowtie, and headed back up to her room, the happy smile never leaving her face.


	6. Chapter 6

As the weeks passed, Veronica and Christine continued to meet for breakfast, talking and laughing as they became close friends once again. Breakfast turned into dinner dates after the shows, and the pair stayed up talking late into the night. They teased each other and talked about anything and everything, always dancing on the edge of flirting. Christine loved every moment of it, feeling content and happy for the first time in ages.

It didn't take her long to realize that she was completely head over heels for the scribe, and as much as she enjoyed the friendship, Christine found herself wishing for more, craving the relationship they had had years before. She didn't want to do anything to mess up their friendship, but the warm smiles and lingering hugs Veronica gave her made Christine think her feelings might be returned.

Despite all the songs she'd written about Veronica, actually telling the brunette how she felt was daunting to Christine. She kept putting it off, telling herself she was waiting for the perfect moment, but Christine couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that wouldn't always be another chance to finally tell Veronica that she loved her.

=====:=====

The battle for Hoover Dam came suddenly, and the Chairmen closed the casino for that evening, fearing an attack on the Strip. Christine didn't mind that the show was canceled, staying in her room and staring out the window worriedly. There was no doubt in her mind that Veronica had gone with Six to the dam, and knowing that she couldn't be there to help protect the woman she loved was killing her.

It took her hours to build up the courage, but finally Christine turned on the radio on her desk. She exhaled slowly, relieved when nothing exploded around her neck, then set to work tuning the radio and trying to pick up NCR's broadcast. When she finally found something, it was garbled and unintelligible.

Christine scowled and popped the case open, fiddling with wires and connections until her fingers hurt, but to no avail. She tossed the radio across the room, frustrated, and fell onto her bed and stared at the ceiling.

She had no way of knowing what was going on, and Christine felt completely helpless. She closed her eyes and pleaded with the world to let Veronica be all right.

Hours later, Tommy came knocking on her door, and the whooping and hollering from the hallway told her NCR had won before the showman even said it.

Christine wasn't sure how to feel about that, but knowing that the courier had been allied with NCR gave her a little hope. If NCR won, there was a good chance Six had survived. She could only hope that Veronica had made it through the battle as well.

Tommy came and found her the next day, informing her that the casino was putting on a show for the NCR generals and a few wounded VIPs. He told her where to go rehearse with the band, making her promise to do her absolute best.

Christine felt sick as she got dressed that night, her fingers trembling as she tied her bowtie and buttoned up the blazer she'd been given. There wasn't a single part of her that felt like singing, not until she knew that Veronica was safe. The mere idea that the scribe hadn't survived the battle was something Christine refused to think about.

Showtime arrived, and Tommy ushered her down to the stage, straightening her bowtie and rambling as they stopped in the wings. It was clear that he was nervous, and with good reason; this was no doubt the biggest show of his life.

The singer took a deep breath and swallowed, trying to ignore her own feelings and be the solid act Tommy needed her to be. She repeated the set list in her head a few times, trying to memorize the order of the songs. It was a familiar list, she'd performed it before, but going over it soothed her frayed nerves.

Far too soon, Tommy announced her, and she went out onto the stage, greeted by the largest crowd than she'd ever performed for. The size of the audience didn't matter to her, only who was in it, but it took her eyes well into the second song to adjust to the stage lights. The crowd was full of decorated NCR soldiers and officers, with wounded men seated around extra tables that had been jammed into the room.

The sheer number of people in the room made it hard to scan faces, but Christine tried her best. Her heart sank lower with every second that passed; she couldn't see Veronica, or even the courier.

The singer screwed her eyes shut and swallowed worry, hoping the audience couldn't see her shaking. She sang without even realizing it, her mind spinning with horrific images of Veronica's corpse lying mangled at the dam. Part of her was vaguely grateful she was singing a heart wrenching song; her audience wouldn't think anything of it if she started crying.

Somehow, Christine made it through the set, and was about to retreat to the wings when Tommy hissed at her to sing an encore. She scowled at him, sure he could see the tears in her eyes, but went ahead and turned to the band. After a few moments, they all decided on one of Miss Fortune's biggest hits, a song Christine had written about the way loving Veronica made her feel alive.

The irony wasn't lost on her, and Christine turned around slowly. She knew she should introduce the song, but couldn't muster the energy to do it, so she just signaled for the band to start playing. Veronica was just late, Christine decided. She'd show up in another day or two, and everything would be okay.

Another glance at the crowd revealed no sign of the brunette or the courier, and Christine immediately tried not to doubt herself. She closed her eyes and waited for her cue, her voice thick with emotion when she finally began to sing.

The lyrics were painful, and with every word that escaped her, Christine felt more and more like walking out of the casino and letting the wasteland swallow her up.

The sound of a door opening made Christine's blood turned to ice in her veins. Her eyes snapped open and she looked to the back of the crowded room. Six had entered the theater, seemingly alone. She couldn't decipher the expression on his face, and was nearly paralyzed with fear. The nightmare of Veronica dying was suddenly all too real, and Christine felt her whole world begin to shatter around her.

She was vaguely grateful for the instrumental break that came next, knowing that she wouldn't be able to sing through the searing pain in her chest. Just as the band began leading into the next verse, the door opened a little wider and Veronica stepped in, following the courier. The mere sight of the brunette nearly made Christine collapse with relief.

She could hear Tommy hissing at her from the side of the stage, telling her to finish the damn song. The band started another instrumental, killing time until Christine composed herself enough to finish the song.

Everything in the singer wanted to run to Veronica, but she managed to stay on the stage, her mind focused on the brunette across the theater. It took her a minute to remember the words she was supposed to be singing, and another minute to figure out how to sing.

Finally she opened her mouth and let the lyrics pour out of her, vaguely aware of hitting all the right notes. Tommy seemed to relax offstage and the band's relief was obvious. Every second felt like an eternity, but finally Christine realized the crowd was applauding and that the song was over.

She ignored everything else and jumped off the stage, moving through the crowd. She stepped around generals and ignored the star struck gazes of the audience. The people seemed endless and Christine pushed past person after person, desperate to get across the theater. Her heart was pounding in her ears and she could feel herself shaking.

People finally realized what she was doing and started to step aside. Christine nearly started running, and then she looked up and saw the most beautiful pair of honey brown eyes she'd ever seen in her life.

There was a smile on Veronica's face, and she looked like she was about to say something, but Christine took another step forward and caught her mouth in a searing kiss. Nothing mattered except for Veronica, and she wasn't aware of the crowd cheering until she broke apart.

Veronica's cheeks were flushed but there was a smile on her face. She tried to say something but her voice was drowned out by the applause.

Six grabbed both of them and dragged them out of the theater, calling out to Tommy over his shoulder that he'd take care of Christine.

When the theater doors shut, blessed silence fell around them. Veronica was still blushing slightly, too flustered to speak.

Christine took a moment to check her over for injuries, horrified at the sight of the cast on Veronica's wrist and the lump of bandages under her clothes. "What happened?!"

The scribe had the decency to look sheepish. "I was kind of in the middle of a war."

That didn't soothe Christine's worry in the slightest, and she ached at the thought that she hadn't been there to protect Veronica. "Are you okay?" she murmured, desperate for an affirmative answer; the scribe was paler than usual and had a few scrapes and scabs visible on her face.

Veronica cracked a grin and lifted her cast-covered wrist ruefully. "Looks like I'm not gonna be winning any prize fights any time soon, but yeah. I'm okay."

Christine started to scowl at the joke, but the warmth in Veronica's voice made her irritation melt away. She couldn't help but start to smile, gazing up at the brunette she loved. "I was scared," she admitted softly. "I… God, Vee. I love you, and I was scared that…"

Veronica's face softened, her eyes growing misty. She shook her head when Christine started to speak again, stepping forward and dipping her head to kiss the singer sweetly.

Both women were smiling when they broke apart, gazes locked.

"I love you, too," Veronica murmured, the words so sincere that a lump rose in Christine's throat.

Six cleared his throat and gave the pair a sheepish grin. "Not to interrupt, but I'm pretty sure the show's gonna be over soon. I didn't figure you wanted everyone to get an eyeful, so…"

Christine nodded and looked over at Six. "Yeah."

The courier smirked. "We're gonna be headin' back to the Lucky 38. Did you want to come along?"

Veronica fixed Christine with a hopeful look, and the singer smiled slightly. "Yeah, if that's okay."

The brunette exhaled, relieved, and grinned at Christine.

Six studied the pair for a moment, then chuckled and shook his head. "Okay, c'mon, you two."

They walked out of the Tops together, out into the street. NCR soldiers and citizens were cheering and celebrating along the Strip, and a few who recognized Six came up to clap him on the shoulder.

Christine stayed close to Veronica, paying close attention to the brunette. The scribe was looking paler and weaker the closer they go to the Lucky 38, and Christine was ready to swoop in and catch her if Veronica started to collapse.

Veronica glanced over at her and offered her a smile, though a dull ache was obvious in the way she was holding herself. "Medicine's starting to wear off," she explained quietly, looking grateful when Six stepped forward and opened the doors of the Lucky 38 for her.

Six pressed the button for the elevator, eyeing Veronica before seeming to remember something. He turned a concerned gaze on the singer and raised an eyebrow. "I, uh… I'm not sure if there's stairs the whole way up. Is that…?"

Christine shook her head. "I can deal with it." When he continued looking at her doubtfully, Christine pointedly reached over and slipped her hand into Veronica's. The scribe gave her hand a squeeze, and Christine smiled.

The elevator arrived and the trio stepped into it, and Christine settled against the wall with Veronica while Six fiddled with the buttons. The elevator door slid closed and Christine swallowed a burst of anxiety, but Veronica's fingers wound through hers and squeezed gently. Christine exhaled slowly and offered the scribe a smile, focusing on the brunette she loved while the elevator started rising through the casino.

Even with Veronica there to comfort her, Christine was still glad when the elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the Presidential Suite.

Six shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a hook in the wall, quietly excusing himself to the kitchen. There were obvious sounds of celebration from the kitchen, and Six started grinning as he stepped in and pulled the door shut behind himself.

Veronica and Christine were left in the suite's common room, their hands still tangled together. Veronica gave Christine's fingers another gentle squeeze before releasing her hand and smiling at the singer.

"You can go join them," Veronica offered quietly. "I'm sure they've got a poker game going or something."

Christine scoffed at the thought of abandoning Veronica. "Not a chance, Vee."

A pleased, yet shy smile crossed the scribe's face and she nodded once. "Well, I'm getting tired, so I was just going to get ready for bed…"

"That's fine," Christine said immediately, tucking her hands in her pockets. "I can… uh, I can hang around for a while and keep an eye on you." When Veronica raised an eyebrow at her, Christine felt her ears warm. "I keep thinking I'll just wake up any second now and you'll be… not alive."

The scribe's eyes softened and she hesitated before responding. "Okay." Her voice was small and gentle all at once. "I'll… I'm gonna change, then."

Christine nodded, and Veronica disappeared into her room, the door closing with a soft click. The singer could hear talking and laughing from the kitchen, muted by the thick walls and lush carpet in the suite. Christine shed her jacket and hung it near Six's before walking toward Veronica's room. She kept her ears peeled for any sound of distress from inside, but the scribe was silent until she opened the door.

Veronica looked only somewhat surprised to see Christine near the door. "Hey."

The pair walked into Veronica's bedroom, and the scribe joked about it being a step up from the Brotherhood bunker.

Christine chuckled, giving the mess of junk on the table a knowing smile; Veronica had apparently continued tinkering with broken tech.

"Are you gonna sing me a lullaby?" Veronica teased, padding toward the large bed in the corner.

"If you want." Christine spotted a chair near the bed, planning to settle there and watch over the sleeping scribe. She didn't want anything to happen, determined to be there if Veronica needed her.

A shy smile flashed across the brunette's face, but she said nothing, lifting the bedcovers and crawling into the bed. Veronica let out a quiet groan of relief as she sank into the mattress, obviously grateful for the softness of the mattress.

Christine smiled to herself and tucked the blanket around the scribe, then leaned over to press a kiss to Veronica's forehead.

The brunette sighed contentedly, then rolled over and looped her uninjured arm around Christine's neck before the singer could escape. "Stay with me tonight?"

Christine blinked while the scribe raised her eyebrows hopefully. When the singer hesitated, Veronica stretched up and brushed her lips against Christine's gently.

"You're not the only one that's scared of this being a dream," Veronica murmured. "Besides, I'm cold. Two geckos with one stone."

Christine wanted to protest and stay up all night to watch over the scribe, but her argument died in her throat. She hadn't slept well and her body was exhausted from all the worrying she'd done, and the chance to cuddle up with Veronica was something she'd been dreaming about for ages. "Okay." She pulled her bowtie off and slipped out of her shoes, then moved around the bed to crawl in behind Veronica.

The scribe was warm and the bed was soft, and Christine couldn't restrain a smile. She draped her arm around Veronica's middle and cuddled up close.

A happy sigh escaped the scribe and she mumbled a good night, sinking into Christine's arms.

Christine laid there and listened to Veronica's breathing even out, getting warm and comfortable and relaxing against the woman she loved. She was still listening for any sign of distress, but Veronica seemed fine, just tired. She consoled herself with the thought that she was going to be right there all night if Veronica needed her. A soft snore from the brunette soothed her, and Christine finally let herself start to doze off. She pressed a sleepy kiss to Veronica's shoulder and a smile crossed her face before Veronica's breathing lulled her to sleep.

* * *

... And there we go. Thanks for reading!


End file.
